


Origin Story

by theweasleyboys



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: AJ Carmichael gets here eventually, Axel!Reader, Gen, Ninety percent speculation, Ten percent canon, Warning: child abuse, every hero has an origin story, possible Swedish folktale references, possible horror, warning: child endangerment, what about the villains
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-19
Updated: 2020-09-15
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:33:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25999066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theweasleyboys/pseuds/theweasleyboys
Summary: How do three relatively unknown farm boys from Sweden become some of the Temps Commission's most dangerous assassins?  A little at a time...
Comments: 18
Kudos: 37





	1. 001.

**Author's Note:**

> I literally typed this first chapter over the course of a few days, and mostly because my mind wanted to fill in the gaps of anything and everything that could have made the Swedes what they are.
> 
> Please note that most of this may not become actual show material later, because I don't claim to know the minds of the creators, and don't want to trust speculation so much that I end up hating future episodes because my personal theories didn't match up.
> 
> Finally, this is an exercise in characterization for me, and may/may not help in my non-fanfiction prose writing later.
> 
> \--Love, Weasley--

The sun sets in a Swedish forest, and tonight, you have your hands full.  
  


Oscar is seven months old and teething, his usual baby sounds changing over to grizzling and drooling all over your shoulder. He probably weighs about as much as a small sack of flour now, but you know that he'll get bigger someday. All the babies do, sooner or later. Tonight, though, you've got to keep both eyes upon him, and make sure that he doesn't get too restless.  
  


Mamma, bless her, would expect no less of you.   
  


You are the oldest, after all, and the oldest boy takes care of everyone else.  
  


As for Oscar, well...he's always going to be the baby in this house, even when he's tall enough to have to duck his head before he enters a room. You know this for a fact. Maybe...maybe you'll have to be extra careful with him, because you don't know what he's going to be like in the future. You don't know if he's going to be there, even...because not all the babies make it past a certain age. For now, you're a little glad that you can help out with the teething bit. He's not crying loudly tonight, but he's still having a hard time regardless. It's probably no easy task to feel as though his gums have swelled up, and also, there's no way for him to ask for relief.   
  


Lucky for him, that's why you're here.  
  


You've kept the old rag in the snow all day for this very purpose, and now, it's time to see how he's going to take it. Though it's worn through in a few places, you carefully avoid the dangerous parts, nudging the undamaged edge between his tiny pink lips and humming a calming tune. Thankfully, it's not long before he accepts, gnawing away with a contented little gurgle. You start to feel a bit relaxed as well, because maybe, tonight's going to be one less night that he wears himself out with fussing.   
  


And, even though you're not the most talkative person in the world, you know that you're at your happiest when he is.  
  


It's a shame, then, that your father is nowhere near as easy to please.  
  


Somewhere close by, a door slams, and another boy cries out in fear.   
  


_**Pappa's home.  
  
** _

There's the shouting again, an all too familiar sound in this household after your first ten years of life.   
  


You hear the bastard's voice before you see him, but a part of you is already looking for somewhere to hide. No, more like somewhere for you and Oscar to hide, because you know that he's looking for somebody to punish. And if he finds you here, out in the snow where neither of you are supposed to be right now--  
  


Looking around wildly, you finally settle for sneaking away to the grain storage room, and wouldn't you know it, there's already an empty box at the ready. Good. He won't make much noise as long as he has the towel to suck on, and the blanket you've wrapped him in might help to stave off his whimpers even further.  
  


It's Pappa you have to worry about now…  
  


" _Stupid brat! You call **this** catching dinner?_"  
  


... Along with anything he decides to throw at you.   
  


That is, if he can even catch you first.  
  


You sneak back to the front of the red farmhouse as his voice booms through an open window, and the crashing sound that follows sends a wave of nausea through you. Mamma and Otto are in there. They're trapped in that room with him, and you're shivering out here, and you're going to have to think a little faster if you want to actually do something.  
  


" _Two hours I spent out there with him! Two damned **hours**! And what does he have to show for it? Eh? A bunch of **ruined** lines?!_"  
  


But what, though? How do you deal with a man who is literally twice your size, four times as dangerous, and about to give your twin brother absolute hell?   
  


More importantly, how do you face a monster _without_ the life-saving magic that the heroes in the stories somehow always have?  
  


Looking through the window, you think that you see your opportunity with the fire poker resting against the wall nearby. It's heavy, and solid metal, and if you managed to swing it hard enough, you could very well knock him out in one blow. You're not as weak as some of the other boys in the village. You know how to swing an axe and drive a plow. You just have to remember to hit him as hard as you can, and in order to do that--  
  


_**Come on, Axel. Move. Just move!  
  
** _

Pappa's fist strikes Otto's face, a sickening sound of hard against soft.   
  


You've got one leg over the windowsill, and you're doing your absolute best to pull the other in as well without any sudden sounds, anything that could warn him of your arrival. This is the only time in your life that you're glad he can't hear you over the sound of his own destruction.  
  


Another punch lands, and then he moves just enough to reveal Otto lying there helpless, his round, tear-stained face already swelling up from the blows. Thank whoever that Pappa's got his back turned, leaving you in almost complete shadow as you're literally three steps from your chosen weapon.   
  


You don't bother looking over at Mamma, because there's a chance that you might never go through with your plan if you watch her too long. Distractions aren't an option here.   
  


Rather, you chance one quick look in Otto's direction, raising a single finger to your lips and hoping that he doesn't cry out in surprise. To his credit, he looks over at you for no longer than one second; then looks away again. There's no way that he'll tattle on you, because he hates Pappa almost as much as you do sometimes. It comforts you just a little that he wouldn't dare to try that sort of betrayal.  
  


Still...you're not done with Pappa just yet.  
  


It's time to really get moving this time.  
  


In the next few seconds, you're reaching for the poker, taking advantage of Pappa's need to breathe right before he strikes again. Now's your chance. Just one hit, and then--  
  


_Eeeeee.  
  
_

The whole room goes silent...even Pappa.  
  


You've just stepped on the one creaky board in the whole house...and the same worn spot that you forgot about until now. Why didn't you remember the damned floorboards?  
  


Otto freezes, one arm raised to shield his face.  
  


You freeze, your fingers barely brushing the poker's handle.  
  


Pappa slowly turns, and then catches sight of you standing there, those dead blue eyes locking upon your own like a wolf catching a glimpse of a deer.  
  


There's nowhere else for you to hide.  
  


There's nowhere left for you to go.  
  


_"Hello, brat."_   
  


And now, it's your turn to be punished. 


	2. 002.

_ You always have to pay for your mistakes. _

That's the last thing Pappa says to you before...everything. 

You won't remember all the hits you take, but when he's finally meted out his punishments, you're on the floor, shaking and feeling sick and tasting metal from where you lost your teeth. Of course your eyes had to start watering. You're crying because you're such a baby.  _ Stupid _ baby,  _ always _ crying--

" _ \-- _ **_Now_ ** _. Clean up this mess, and go find your brother. _ "

It's barely a minute before you realize that he's talking to you and Otto together, but as soon as you do, you're pulling yourselves up, barely allowing for any more sniffles. This is how your household works. This is how it's been as far back as you can remember--Pappa expects something to be done a certain way; you try to do it as best as you can; you fail at it...and then, you get punished. 

He's got all the power here, and you're stuck with the consequences.

Small wonder, then, that you don't dare leave a single drop of your own blood on the floorboards. This is the way Pappa likes it, after all. 

Once you've cleaned up to his satisfaction, though...you're grabbing Otto's hand and moving toward the door, out of it, back to the place where you hid Oscar. Oscar already realized that you were gone, because he's spat the cold rag out and is now fussing with a vengeance. You have to give it to him--you would probably be just as upset if he were to disappear without warning. Lucky for you, that's  _ not _ going to happen.

Not tonight.

Tonight, you're going to keep an eye on him and Otto both, all the while keeping an emotionless look upon your face. Masking your true feelings, your true self, seems to be your first line of defense here. Especially when you have to come back inside to face Pappa one more time.

Good. Now leave Oscar with your mother, and go to your room. Neither of you eat tonight.

This announcement stings just as surely as if he struck you once more...but it doesn't surprise you in the least. He's never one to avoid an opportunity for 'discipline', so what's one more lesson? He could probably give the school masters some advice if he wished.  _ Heh _ . If only they could see you now.

" **_Yes, Pappa._ ** "

You go straight to your room in silence, you walking in front and Otto walking behind. Neither of you dare to stop or turn around, not until you've both gotten inside your room and almost nudged the door closed completely. It's almost totally dark in there save for the moonlight slipping through the shutters, and also the one lit candle in the center. If you didn't know any better, you'd almost swear that the shadows have grown considerably longer than they had been last year. Still, there's enough light flickering around you to see the extent of Otto's bruises.

" **_How badly does it hurt?_ ** "

Otto just shakes this question off, reaching for your arm like a thousand vines are holding him back. He hasn't exactly figured out this older brother idea yet, but then again, you're still working it all out in your mind, too. At the same time, though, you're not done being  _ his _ older brother as well.

" **_How_ ** **bad** **_is it, Otto?_ ** ""

" _ What does it matter?  _ **_You're_ ** _ the one who's bleeding! Look here... _ "

He's careful to nudge you over to the washstand, even if just for a moment. Pappa isn't anywhere near you, yet you find yourself flinching under his touch just the same. How was it that you started feeling like this, this...whole  _ isolated _ life where the slightest bit of human affection terrifies you to no end? When did this happen...?

" _...At least try and wash the blood off. You already know what the other boys think. It won't get any better in the schoolyard when they see that we've been punished again. _ "

He doesn't get much out of you in return, just a small grunt of acknowledgement. You've probably both done your talking for the night, so perhaps it's just as well that you go silent now. This doesn't stop you from feeling rather thankful that Oscar didn't see what you saw. If anything, he won't have any memories of this night, nor any other bad nights... _ before _ he reaches a certain age, of course.

" **_All right. Just bring me the pitcher._ ** "

As for you and Otto, on the other hand...memories are some of the worst things that you're ever going to have.

* * *

The next few days go by in a slow, plodding blur. Probably a little slower than all the other times you were 'disciplined'...not that you'll ever dare to complain about it. Instead, you keep your head down over your desk, ignoring the questions of the other boys and, in the case of the occasional taunt, passing along your worst glare of death to the idiot who spat it out. 

You do your best to play games with Oscar and keep him calm, but not without also treating him like something breakable. Irreplaceable. Sometimes, it's almost impossible for you to hug him, even when he clearly wants it. Other times, you find yourself unable to put him down...and that hurts a bit more when you have to hand him back to Mamma.

It's times like this when Pappa looks at you suspiciously, and right as you turn away, you wonder how in the world could Oscar have come from him in the first place. How could something so small and needy spawn from someone so cold as Pappa? It's a question that stays on your mind for what feels like hours, or at least until the day where you and Otto are coming back from another morning at school, the marks upon both of your faces beginning to fade.

This is when Otto springs a sudden but needed change upon your usual sad routine, and in spite of yourself, you cringe.

" **_'Visit Linnea'?_ ** **Now** **_? After Mamma's already asked us to come straight home each day?_ ** "

" _ It's not  _ **_that_ ** _ far into the woods, _ " Otto answers, his usual shaky voice now sounding a bit more determined. " _ We can be in and out of there in a few minutes, and anyway,  _ **_you're_ ** _ the one who promised that we'd go. _ "

His glance becomes a little scolding as he adds, " _ Or are you already tired of talking to our sister? _ "

... _ No _ . You've never gotten tired of her, or bored, or disgusted.  _ Nothing _ about this possible meeting could ever make you uncomfortable. It's just that--

" **_\--Can we do this without getting another beating?'_ **

" _ We can. I'll be the one to plan it out this time. _ "

And so, in about as long as it takes to sneak off the beaten path and slip between the trees, you're off on your little adventure for the day. The light outside is not so dim as it could be, and the cold is not so biting this morning, either. You're very nearly sprinting alongside your brother, not wanting to be the last one to the gravesite. Not  _ ever _ wanting to get left behind.

It takes you a while to catch up, but soon, you're both panting and laughing, barely feeling winter's chill as you reach the place where they laid your sister. The place where Linnea's won her eternal rest. You stop just as you reach the hill, the last of your breath suddenly catching in your throat.

A tall, black-haired lady in a gray dress already stands here, and before you can even think about speaking up, she's reaching straight for you.


	3. 003.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First things first! My profound thanks to Steffie, Swing-Thing, Slicedicemylife, and all the registered AO3 readers who took the time to comment on my chapters so far. I'm sorry I took a while to acknowledge you, but as my head was literally over my tablet as I typed, edited, and posted; I hope my silence is understandable. 
> 
> Anywho. One more thing that I have to mention--well, two things if you count Swedish/Scandinavian folklore--is that I didn't exactly plan to write an earlier appearance by the Handler, as it didn't look like she actually ever met the Swedes until the tail end of Season 2...but she kinda-sorta snuck into this story anyway, so I'll just have to figure out whether or not there's going to be some kind of a memory alteration for the older boys by the end of this. 
> 
> Also, from what I've researched, a huldra is a spirit of the forest that either leads male travelers to her and blesses their hunting efforts...or feeds on their life energy. Couldn't resist the symbolism here, considering that the Swedes are a little infamous for both these extremes. ;) 
> 
> And now, without further delay...I give you...Chapter Three!

003.

" _It's a huldra!_ "

Otto pushes you just out of the woman's reach, clapping his hands over your ears for good measure. Supposedly, he's keeping you from hearing a song that would lead you to your death. By rights, you should both be running away by now, because there's no telling what this oddly-dressed newcomer is capable of.

And yet.

You do run, but only for a few seconds. Fear, curiosity, or a mix of the two forced you to look back as you made your escape, probably to see if the strange woman is chasing after you, her fox-tail sticking out as well as her hollow back becoming evident. Strangely enough, though...she hasn't budged. She just stands there without so much as a twitch, letting her right arm fall back to her side.

She looks...concerned? Disappointed? Both?

Strange sort of behavior for something planning to eat you.

You end up slowing down, which forces Otto to slow down, and then you find yourself stopping halfway back on the path you originally came in. This woman, in spite of her sudden appearance, just...stands there. It's almost like she's waiting for you...not that you have any idea as to why. All you can really seem to do, for this moment, is feel lost.

" _ **This makes NO sense!**_ "

All the folklore stories suggest that something horrific, or magical, or perhaps even both at once should have taken place by now. The woman revealing her true face, for example, and then flying straight at you with her inhuman teeth bared, ready for the kill. Nothing like that, curiously enough, seems to be happening yet.

" _What do you mean, ' **This makes no sense** '? Look at her. She's just...luring us back to her with her huldra powers, that's what this is about!_"

" _ **Otto, come ON. Since when does a huldra**_ **not** _ **dress like all the other farm girls?**_ "

_...Well. _

You're both watching her now...which gradually brings you back to where she's been standing for the last few minutes. Watching, waiting for your return...and finally, smiling down at you as you approach her a second time. 

In spite of your fear, you find yourself eyeing her strange clothing, and feeling just the slightest twinge of confusion at the exact same time. Of course, she has  _ some _ kind of dress on--no girl or woman of your village would ever be seen in public without one--but the other things she's wearing are a bit harder to describe.

In place of the usual white headscarf, her "hat", for lack of a better word, is both box-shaped and half draped in what you can only hope is a veil, though it resembles a fishing net more than anything else. She wears gloves and strange, vivid paint upon her face when none of the women in these parts have either one to speak of. And last, but not least, there's the odd box in her left hand that you could almost swear was made out of cow hide.

All of these suggest to you that you just might be in over your head. 

That's your very first response, no different than how you think in the presence of any other woodland predator. The odd, knowing grin upon her face almost reminds you of a fox who's slipped into the chicken coop...but only for lack of a better comparison to real life. As far as you know directly, no one from your side of the river has ever met a mysterious stranger in the woods, and then lived to tell of it later.

You don't get much time for a second thought, unfortunately, because it's the woman who speaks first:

" _My, my...is this all of you, then?_ "

Your mouth's undoubtedly gone dry in the meantime, because a little bit of time passes before you're able to speak again. Apoarently, even if she's got no magical powers to speak of...she still has the most bizarre effect upon you.

" _ **What do you mean, 'all of us'?**_ "

" _I...was told that there would be three of you?_ "

She talks like she's the new schoolteacher in town, a curiously casual feel to such an unexpected encounter. Too bad you're in no mood to play nice.

" _ **Whoever told you that**_ **obviously** _**can't count.**_ "

You reach down for Otto's hand, clearly planning to get him and yourself as far away from these woods as you can, and as soon as you see an opening to leave, you're taking it. The woman, on the other hand, just laughs.

" _Such a little spitfire, too?_ " She smiles down at you both, this time leaning in to lock her gaze upon yours. " _I'm actually a little relieved. We could use some more **spirit** below the stairs._"

" _ **Either explain yourself or we're leaving, old lady!**_ "

You say this with all the authority of any other ten-year-old boy, which is to say, very little. Children, especially those living in such an isolated place as you do, are supposed to follow orders rather than give them. By rights, this woman can chastise you as mildly or as harshly as she sees fit...and yet, instead, she just laughs.

" _Oh-ho-HO! Oh my, I suppose I_ deserved _that, didn't I?_ "

Another laugh; then she raises her hands in surrender, the strange black box in her hand a bit clearer than before. You can't exactly explain why, but it almost gives you a rush of fear the more you stare at it..and yet...why does such a thing even matter to you right now? Is it the shape of it? The shine? Or...does what might be inside of it hold your attention a lot more?

" _Still...I_ should _, ha ha ha...explain myself, we don't want to keep the timeline waiting..._ "

Otto's glaring at her like she just asked him to swallow cow droppings, but not without squeezing your hand purely out of nerves. Is this where you turn the woman down, and then run straight home without a single look back? If you do, will she follow you home and get you into some worse trouble with Pappa, not intending to leave until she speaks out loud to everyone in your little farmhouse? 

Or would it be a smarter idea to see this through to the end, and pray that this little meeting doesn't destroy you...?

" _...So. If you're really_ that _curious--and I'm not the only one who_ hopes _that you are-- I'll need you to take my hand._ "

Something's got to happen soon, though neither of you have any idea what that thing is going to look lke. It's a slow, tense moment as the both of you look back at one another, figuring it all out between yourselves with one shared look.

After a short minute, Otto nods once to you.

You nod once back to him in return.

And then...you take the woman's hand.


End file.
